Woolly Mammoth's Ribald Period Piece Drags Out the Joke

"Measure for Pleasure" is a 100-meter dash of a gag, stretched to the length of an Olympic marathon. The notion in this bawdy comedy of manners by playwright David Grimm is that while the year is 1751, the sensibility belongs to 2008. To wit: Gay men stride demonstratively out of the closet, and women hold up phallic sexual aids with pride.

Imagine a play from just after the English Restoration -- complete with rhymed couplets -- and composed by 18th-century equivalents of Mel Brooks, John Waters and the folks at Frederick's of Hollywood. What tumbles off the page is akin to a dictionary of double-entendres, few of which are suitable for quotation here. It will come as no surprise that at least one male character has a common first name that effortlessly lends itself to vulgar innuendo.

One is supposed to be intrigued by the confluence of the eras and how well this bygone style of theater accommodates "modern" behavior. Something, perhaps, to do with the way people today hide their true natures as readily as these characters disguise their identities. As the production by Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company reveals, however, what we mostly get to experience is an accomplished act of imitation and a rather predictable litany of dirty jokes.

Mind you, some of the shenanigans, deftly orchestrated by director Howard Shalwitz, actually are funny, especially when placed in the hands of the drollest of farceurs. (A joke, even an old one, is all in the timing.) Shalwitz has had the good fortune of securing the services of some comic naturals in the outrageous supporting roles, chief among them a juicily deluded Jennifer Mendenhall and a tartly puckered Kimberly Schraf.

Mendenhall plays a sexually frustrated noblewoman, Lady Vanity Lustforth. (The characters' names all owe debts to the late Charles Ludlam, whose 1980s camp classic "The Mystery of Irma Vep" is revived this week at Arena Stage.) When first we meet past-her-prime Lady Vanity, she's in her boudoir, lying about the attentions of her lovers and wearing so much makeup that, as she puts it, "My face looks like a wedding cake that's been left out in the rain."

In this and a drunk scene to follow, Mendenhall reaffirms why the best stage actors always have an ear and a gear for comedy. Similarly, Schraf -- who is not seen onstage nearly enough these days -- offers up as Dame Stickle a hilarious impression of a Scottish scold so brittle and sere you half expect her to spontaneously crack into pieces.

Not everyone delivers a robustly comic performance of this caliber, though no one veers egregiously wide of the mark, either. Andrew Honeycutt, as a man in parlor maid's aprons, and Kimberly Gilbert, portraying a pampered ingenue named Hermione Goode, make appealing contributions, too.

As in social comedies of yore, "Measure for Pleasure" mischievously puts its characters through involved ordeals of disguise and temptation in the cause of finding love. If you've seen one of these stylized concoctions before, you will easily recognize what Grimm is up to. For his contemporary spin, the playwright not only adds references to the modern, er, apparatus of sex games -- there's an orgy in a club, a la Plato's Retreat -- but also weaves in a gay subplot. This involves a dolorous valet (Joel Reuben Ganz) in the household of Lady Lustforth who develops a thing for the maid-in-drag essayed by Honeycutt.

The piece feels like the cousin of a show presented last year by Woolly: David Greenspan's "She Stoops to Comedy," which, like "Measure for Pleasure," used as a template an aspect of theater history to address contemporary perceptions of sexuality and identity. Although Greenspan's comedy supplied more interludes of inspired theatricality, Grimm's work comes across as less manipulative and didactic: He is more prone simply to let the characters speak in their own voices. The result is a more coherently structured evening.

But at 2 hours and 40 minutes, "Measure for Pleasure" is also a very long one. Once it sinks in that this work is essentially going to be a clever mimicking of the entirety of a full-length period comedy, the mechanics of the plot grow steadily less compelling. The novelty of Grimm's ability to ape meter and vernacular wears off as the evening wears on.

The set designer, Robin Stapley, conjures the country and city scenes of "Measure" as flimsy and one-dimensional, which suits the comedy's transparency. (Turning the wings into theater boxes for cardboard cutouts of the privileged is a nice touch.) The fusion of styles in Ryan Rumery's score reinforces the idea of a merging of then and now.

And special mention must be made of costume designer Helen Q. Huang's amusingly garish ideas about how these people dress. Though the impact of Grimm's conceit may fade, the image of a fop in a sparkly, pink cutaway never can.

Measure for Pleasure, by David Grimm. Directed by Howard Shalwitz. Lighting, Colin K. Bills; sound design, Ryan Rumery; choreography, Michael Bobbitt; dialect coach, Melissa Flaim. With Doug Brown, Michael Gabriel Goodfriend. About 2 hours 40 minutes. Through June 29 at Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, 641 D St. NW. Call 202-393-3939 or visit http://www.woollymammoth.net.